Tom’s New Team.

A Footballer’s Story.
THEY thought a lot of him at home, in his little village in the country: Tom was a fine fellow—the best football player for miles around.
Long ago, he had been chosen captain of the local team, but even that failed to satisfy him, for Tom had great ambitions. He had heard of the great things done by men who, in dead earnest, took up the game. Maybe in the dim horizon of the future, Tom saw himself a full-fledged "professional," with no hard daily toil save the training for the field, the petted idol of the hundreds of thousands who should pay gate-money to see him lead a crack team in winning the coveted "cup."
Anyway, Tom began to look further afield than the little village where he lived.
Some few miles off, were the great railway works of S_____, employing thousands of men—men who loved football, and cheerfully paid their three-pence a week out of their hard-earned wages to support a team of their own; a team which numbered some of the best professional players in the country.
Here was the place to go—certainly; here he could pick up all he needed and watch the best played matches in which football became a science rather than a game. And then, in the end, if he became himself a skilled player in the field, well, who knew?
Anyway, he meant to try. He was a fine, strong fellow; his application for the works at S_____ was speedily considered, the medical tests were passed, and Tom left his country home and took up his abode in the town, an employee of the great works at last, with football as the object of his life in his spare time.
Some weeks had passed away; Tom settled down to his new work and thought himself a lucky fellow.
It was a bright Sunday in the autumn. There was no work to be done—no football playing—and Tom found the day rather slow on the whole. Hardly knowing what to do with himself, he entered a mission hall that Sunday night. Somebody, a mate in the railway works, had told him of the ladies who were spending all their time and strength in seeking to win the railway men for God. To Tom, the idea of a lady interesting herself in the likes of him was something of a novelty, so he had resolved to go.
Somehow, once inside, he almost wished he hadn't come; it was quite different from anything that he had heard before.
He had been to scores of services, but this kind of direct and personal appeal, this message given in the living power of the Holy Spirit, touched his conscience so closely that he began to feel very uncomfortable.
"Awake, thou that sleepest!"
Over and over again came the solemn words of the text. What? had he then been asleep? He, the wide-awake young captain in his village, the enthusiastic new-comer to the great town—he asleep?
Yes, asleep—asleep in sin, that terrible slumber that could only end in death, and have an awful awakening, when too late, in Eternity. Gliding easily down the broad smooth path of destruction, all unconscious of his danger, never realising that he was dead in trespasses and sin, until to-night.
But at last, there had come an awakening; Tom's soul had been aroused, never again to sleep. He became utterly wretched as the meeting went on; it must be one thing or the other, and that to-night. Either he must choose Christ and His Salvation or go out of that room an unsaved soul—though awakened to his danger, choosing danger still.
Some of the folks were going out, others were staying to the after-meeting; scarcely knowing what he did, Tom rose up to go, but God was watching that young footballer, and God meant to save his soul.
At the door, he was met by a personal question—Was it all well with that soul of his?
Tom knew it wasn't well—far from it. Perhaps the lady read his awakening in his troubled face, for she pressed home the question further. Was he willing to accept the Lord Jesus, and yield to Him to-night?
Like a flash, Tom then and there saw the choice before him. The Spirit was working mightily, and in that moment, his resolve was made.
Forgetful of the meeting still in progress, forgetful of the folks passing out around him, forgetful of all else save his own great need of Jesus, and the fact that now is the day of Salvation, and he might never have another chance, Tom flung himself then and there upon his knees in the doorway and out of the fulness of his heart cried:—
"Lord, I come, I come!"
Simply as a little child, Tom accepted God's full salvation, as that night he was shown the words:
"He was wounded for our transgressions. . . . The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all."
Tom knew for the first time that that meant Salvation for him too.
Weeks passed: Tom's bright witnessing had proved the reality of his decision, and now the time of real testing came.
He had been home for a flying visit to his native village, and in the evening, as he bade his own folks good-bye, his old chums came crowding round him as he went towards the station, eager to hear the exploits of their whilom [former] champion.
"Well, mate, how are you getting on?"
"Oh, fine!" and Tom's face lit up with a happy smile.
"Have you joined a team yet?" broke in one fellow eagerly.
"Aye, that I have."
"A good one?"
"Aye, the very best there is!"
"What team is it? When are you going to play for us?"
“I can't play for you any more," replied Tom, steadily, "because I'm in too good a club now." Then he added quickly—"Would you like to see the rules?"
He had only a moment more—the lads crowded round him eagerly, and Tom drew from his pocket a crimson Marked Testament and held it up aloft."
There! that's the team I've joined, and those are the rules. I belong to Jesus now and mean to follow Him as long as I live."There was no time for more; Tom had to run for his train. Another moment and the football captain was gone, leaving behind a group too utterly astonished for words to be possible just then. But Tom's bold witnessing was not in vain.
The power of God is mighty still to save and keep, and in those great railway works at S______, Tom is a living witness to that same power to-day.
“The British Messenger” 1903